


Eyes Opened

by Statementends (Blueberryshortcake)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Archivist Jon, Homophobia, M/M, The Power Of Love, They/Them Jon, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 21:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18786835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberryshortcake/pseuds/Statementends
Summary: Jon is human for their friends and Martin. Some people don’t deserve Jon’s humanity.





	Eyes Opened

**Author's Note:**

> So usually I wouldn’t go into an explanation of pronoun use (since usually it’s self explanatory), but I do play with it a little here. Jon uses they/them and he/him for themselves in this fic, but when overtaken with the Archivist becomes exclusively he/him (Mostly because I thought it was a nice change from the monster using the gender neutral pronoun).

Jon didn’t have much time for the opinions of others. Especially unsubstantiated, cruel, or useless ones. What people said about them didn’t matter. Well… they weren’t entirely immune. If the person mattered to them it could cut them deep.

They were slow to trust, and slow to befriend, and slow to love because the world had taught them it was better that way, and safer.

Jon was the sort of person to throw themselves into a monster coffin for people they felt a strand of loyalty for.

The humanity of their friends is what kept them … as close to themselves as they could hope to be.

And Martin…

Martin sacrificed so much so that Jon would be safe. Jon was helpless in their care for Martin Blackwood. They knew they didn’t express that as well as they could, but Martin knew.

So whenever they had it in their head they should do more to show their affections, they did.

They didn’t hesitate a moment, holding Martin’s hand on the street.

Martin beamed. He had been in mid conversation about where they might go to eat. His voice went cheerful at the touch, as if Jon had handed him roses.

“What do you think, Jon?”

Jon was distracted momentarily in their happiness with each other when an ugly thought hit them at the back of their head.

Not their own, and not Martin’s.

Ugly words. Words that didn’t belong anywhere near Martin Blackwood.

Jon stopped. Martin tugged them.

“Jon?”

“Sorry,” Jon apologised. They went forward again. “I got distracted.”

Martin’s smile became a bit sadder. He knew the code Jon was speaking in. Distracted meant Knowing.

Jon appreciated though that it wasn’t that Martin was sad that Jon was changing. He was sad because he knew Jon was afraid of it, and it caused them pain.

Another ugly word bounced around in their head. They held onto Martin’s hand a little tighter.

“Mind if I stop into the store for a moment? I’ll be quick.”

Martin nodded, mildly disappointed that they’d have to let go of one another. Jon added it to the list of things they’d like to say to the person… following them? It had been a few blocks now. Jon hoped that the person might follow them into the shop. They stared out the window trying to scan the crowd. They only looked away a moment and Martin was gone.

And He knew with certainty.

A coldness overtook him. A precision. He stepped out of the shop and went into the side alley. No hesitation or uncertainty. He Knew. He was the Archivist and he Knew.

Martin was there standing at his full height, but he wasn’t a fighter, and the man that was starting to corner him had intent.

Martin had noticed too. He was trying to protect Jonathan by leading the man back here so that he might talk him down, or take the beating for both of them. Because he loves Jon, because Jon has been hurt so much in the past couple of weeks. Because Jon needed protecting even if they thought themselves a monster. Because he refused to lose Jon again.

The Archivist felt cold rage build in him. Felt the man–Jeremy Fieldgate’s rush of power. That Jeremy felt he controlled the situation. That he had done this before.

Somewhere a tape recorder clicked on.

“Statement of Jeremy Fieldgate,” The Archivist said voice low and dripping with frosty hatred.

Jeremy spun around.

“Jon!” Martin shouted, about to tell his lover to run.

“On the day his world changed forever,” The Archivist continued walking forward into the alleyway.

“Oh good, the other one.” Jeremy said, false bravado.

How did that little shit know my name?

“I’m going to knock your block off and make him watch,” he added.

The Archivist gave no indication he heard, stepping ever closer. Not slowing his speed.

“J-Jon!” Martin gasped.

Jonathan Sims was human for Daisy Tonner and Basira Hussain, and Melanie King, and Georgie Barker and the memory of Tim Stoker and Sasha James who the Archivist could now see in his mind with perfect clarity. Her real face. Jonathan Sims was human for Martin Blackwood.

Jeremey Fieldgate did not deserve the benefit of Jon’s humanity.

The Archivist’s low tone went a little higher and rougher, mimicking Jeremy’s accent and manner.

“Some people might call me a murderer, but I don’t feel that I am. I teach people respect. I teach them they’re not welcome among decent people in London.”

“What the hell are you doing…?” Jeremy lost ground, stepping back.

“And yet, in London I would be the one arrested. I would be the one hated if it was known what I did to the two men kissing in Hyde Park.”

The Archivist opened his Eyes. Jeremy tried to scream, but instead words started tumbling out.

“I took them by surprise with a large stick and I–i’m sorry please– and I made sure that it hurt–stop stop please– and now I was following these two. Walking on the street holding hands like it was nothing. Like they were safe from my wra–please I’m sorry stop– wrath. The smaller man went into a store and I cornered the bigger one. I was going to–please! Please!!”

“Be more detailed, Mr. Fieldgate. And please don’t babble. I hate babbling. Get to the point.” The Archivist said dryly. All his eyes opened now and pinned to him. Mr. Fieldgate was crying.

“Th-the Monster stepped into the alley. It seemed like a man at first. I thought I was in luck. That I could make the bigger guy watch as I took apart his boyfriend right in front of him. But the thing wasn’t a man at all. It wasn’t a human. It was–please please pleaseplease!” He fell to his knees. “And it… it had so many eyes, and they were all looking at me, and it knew everything. It knew who I was. It knew all the dark little ugly things in me. It knew my entire being.”

The Archivist chuckled darkly. “And what a lacking being it is, Mr. Fieldgate. You’re barely worth the tape.” The Archivist stepped closer. He filtered in and examined every point in Fieldgate’s life. His nasty empty little life. The Archivist started neatly filing him away.

“And it was going to… it was going to take everything. P-please! Please stop! Please! I’ll never do it aga–I. I’ll confess! I’ll confess that I murdered them! They weren’t supposed to die. I just wanted them to know–I–please–please I’m sorry I–”

“Jon.” Martin’s voice was soft and sad.  

All of The Archivist’s eyes looked to him.

And blinked.

Jon shuddered. “Go.” They told Fieldgate. “Turn yourself in.”

Now free from the Archivist’s gaze Fieldgate made a sprint for it. Jon knew that he would go and turn himself in.

Martin ran to them, folding them into his arms.

“Oh Jon.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon said tiredly. “He was going to hurt you, and I… I’m sorry. I should have been stronger.”

“I don’t care about him,” Martin said holding them closer. “Are you okay?”

Jon nodded. The Archivist was apart of them. Was them. A fact they were becoming more and more used to.

“Don’t fuss, Martin, I’m fine.” Jon said, trying to sound more like themselves. Martin sighed. Let them go. Jon reached out, took Martin’s hand.

“You’re not worried?” Martin asked.

“Are you?” Jon asked, tentative now, worried that all this was their fault, while also worrying Martin was uncomfortable with them now.

“No,” Martin’s smile always lifted the darkness when it pressed in close to Jon. Jon sighed, relieved.

“Let’s go home though… I… I want to lie down awhile.”

Martin leaned in and kissed their cheek.

“Are–are you afraid of me?” They asked suddenly, because Jon was afraid, so afraid of themselves. So afraid of the Archivist and how strong he was growing inside them.

“Never,” Martin whispered with perfect certainty. “You’re my Jon. What’s there to be afraid of?”

And Jon Knew that he was telling them the truth.


End file.
